


the space between words

by moriturism



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Boys In Love, Established Relationship, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:35:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24557758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moriturism/pseuds/moriturism
Summary: Everything Kuroo and Yaku didn't say at all.
Relationships: Kuroo Tetsurou/Yaku Morisuke
Comments: 6
Kudos: 145





	the space between words

It was in his second year of high school that Kuroo realized he never needed to speak when Yaku was around. If Kuroo was there, existing, that was enough for Yaku.

Kuroo didn’t wave to Yaku when he saw him. Their eyes met and their pulse became electricity. He didn’t  _ need _ to wave.

They fell into step next to each other, without so much as questioning it.

_ Hello. _

Kuroo's confession during their third year of high school barely qualified as a confession. 

The bento he made had gotten soggy and cold because Yaku was avoiding speaking with him. Kuroo had never been one to speak much, but when he finally found Yaku he didn’t hesitate to start rambling on about how "I can't get you out of my head. Y'know how fucking annoying it is to be in the middle of calc and have your short ass pop up in my thoughts?"

Really as far as confessions go, it was shitty and poorly planned but the meaning behind it is genuine.

Yaku accepts, of course, because that's just how Kuroo is.

_ I like you. _

Yaku can't help but be wary of Kenma, especially when Kuroo admits he'd previously harbored feelings for him.

"I was figuring myself out," Kuroo explained haphazardly. "The feelings were never romantic, I just  _ thought _ they were."

When Yaku doesn't respond, unconvinced, Kuroo pulls him by the wrist closer to him. He rests a palm against the small of his neck where Kuroo is acutely aware he has a mole that no one else noticed. He massages his thigh where Yaku has a tiny strawberry birthmark covered by his shorts. He presses a kiss to his freckle-speckled nose.

Kuroo doesn't say anything, but he refuses to break away from Yaku's own gaze. Yaku gives in, melting into his touch. His hands trace along defined pectorals and biceps, ridges he knew by memory. Slowly, he traced the defined look of his collarbone, making Kuroo shiver.

Not even Kenma knew what that did to him.

_ Only you. _

Almost everyone had been surprised when Kuroo did not continue playing volleyball for his university team.

He claimed, like someone decades older, "my time is up. I need to move on." Yaku knew this translated to 'I don't want to spoil my memories of my high school team' but did Kuroo the courtesy of not reminding him.

When others continued to pressure him, Kuroo assured them, "Watching is enough for me," and watch he did.

Every single game Yaku played, Kuroo was proudly cheering from the crowd. Even when he had a lab the day beforehand or he stayed up until the sun rose to support Kenma’s streams, he never missed a game.

But more importantly, he never missed the quiet moments after games. When Yaku would wander into their shared apartment after a particularly harsh loss, looking more ghost than man, Kuroo would be sitting on the sofa with some hot tea, arms spread wide.

When Yaku would curl in on himself, letting regrets and best wishes fall down his cheeks, Kuroo would rub circles on his back and kiss away the tears.

In these moments, they rarely spoke. They'd played enough games together in high school to be beyond verbal reflections. Company was enough. Fingers interlocked were enough. 

_ I'm here. _

Yaku stopped packing Kuroo lunch for Kuroo in the mornings and Kuroo knew he fucked up.

He wasn't sure how,  _ yet, _ but he was dead set on finding out. He walked himself through the past two weeks, mentally recounting all his interactions with Yaku.

At a loss, he begrudgingly texted Lev, waiting impatiently for the  _ bing _ alerted him of the answer.

'Yaku mentioned something about being taken for granted by a lecherous scumbag'

Kuroo swallowed deeply, looking around his apartment. Dirty dishes, smelly laundry, cat's litterbox far overdue to be changed. All things he'd promised Yaku he'd get to in due time before getting trapped in a hell hole of google searches about the possibility of a new kind of anti-matter.

And to top it all off, no lunch in the fridge.

_ I hate you. _

Yaku didn't know what he expected, exactly. An acknowledgment of his mistake and a clean apartment would've been plenty. Frankly, even just throwing down his pride and saying he couldn't balance school and chores along with a cute puppy face would've been enough for Yaku to let Kuroo off the hook.

Instead, he walked into his apartment after practice, sore and sweaty, to be greeted by a pitch-black living room. Rounding the corner, he could see his kitchen table with their one shitty plaid tablecloth draped over it. There was a candlelit, smelling of pinecones and musk. It wasn't exactly romantic or appetizing, but Yaku knew it was an old gift and they were both far too broke to buy anything more fitting.

On one side of the table sat his boyfriend, dressed in a suit that seemed to have gotten smaller since their high school days (Yaku didn’t mind that, though), and on the other side a bento box.

"I said I'd remake the meal for you, since it was cold when I asked you out," Kuroo answers Yaku's quizzical expression with an award-winning smile. Even now, after ingraining everyone one of Kuroo’s expressions into his skin like clockwork, it made Yaku’s heart race.

Yaku briefly remembers the incident, an afternoon their third year, and getting called "fucking annoying" before he sits across from Kuroo to dig into his dinner.

Kuroo didn't need to do any of it. He didn’t need his ill-fitting suit or the bento. Yaku truly would've forgiven him had he done the bare minimum. 

They both knew this, of course, but Kuroo did it any ways.

_ I'm sorry. _

"Morisuke," Kuroo hummed, turning off the TV. He craned his neck down so he could press a delicate kiss to Yaku’s temple.

"Morisuke," Kuroo repeated a bit louder now, long fingers weaving through Yaku's rough palms.

"Mori," Kuroo groaned, pinching his boyfriends round cheeks and finally getting him to stir from their usual afternoon nap.

When he finally awoke, Yaku looked less than happy, sending Kuroo a pointed glare that screamed  _ what?  _ But Kuroo could only answer with a haphazard smile, the sight of Yaku's eyelids fluttering open knocking all the air out of his lungs.

"Just wanted to make sure I'm still the lucky bastard that gets to be with you," Kuroo laughed buoyantly. Cheeks flush, Yaku could only mutter something about how ridiculous he was while burrowing his head into the crook of Kuroo's neck, hiding the blush creeping up his ears.

_ I love you. _

It was drizzling slightly, just like the day Kuroo had confessed, but Yaku wasn't about to let that stop him.

Kuroo had told him already how he quite enjoyed the smell of rain on wet pavement and while Yaku didn't really  _ understand _ because "dammit, you're going to get yourself sick!" that didn't stop him today.

Even as they walked around the empty park and let the chill of the rain seep into their bones, Yaku could only feel his skin aflame with anticipation.

"Why did you bring me here, anyway?" Kuroo finally asked, certain that Yaku wanted nothing more than to be warm and dry in their apartment. "You don't like rain."

"But you do," Yaku turned to him immediately, stopping. "And you like weird country music and black and white films and that indie science magazine. You like a lot of shit I don't get, Tetsurou."

Yaku gulped as he got on one knee, cringing at the feeling of the wet ground dirtying his pants leg. "But if it's alright with you…" Yaku pulled out a velvet box. "I'd like to spend the rest of my life learning why."

Kuroo couldn't say yes fast enough.

_ Only you. _

Tetsurou rushed into the stadium as quickly as he could, glad he'd gotten Kenma to reserve seats at the front for him. The Azure Lions side was more crowded than usual, they had never been a particularly popular team but then again this was a particularly important game.

"You're really alright being off work for this?" Kenma huffed next to Tetsurou, aware of his busy schedule.

Tetsurou shrugged without a care in the world. instead of answering, he made himself comfortable next to Kenma. Once settled, Tetsurou was immediately drawn into the game, eyes trained on the back of the Azure Lions libero as he dove for the ball.

"And that's a perfect receive from libero Kuroo Morisuke!"

Instead of clapping or cheering, Kenma’s quiet golden gaze bore into Tetsurou, still looking for an answer.

"He's worth it," Tetsurou smiled like a fool, the pads of his fingers running over a simple gold band on his finger.

_ Forever. _

**Author's Note:**

> The ending scene was heavily inspired by
> 
> [this beautiful art](https://acidulication.tumblr.com/post/190348668367/if-furudate-wont-give-me-timeskip-kuroyaku-ill)
> 
> Comments and kudos are always appreciated <3  
> Come talk to me about writing on twt
> 
> [@birbwrites_](https://twitter.com/birbwrites_)


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